


The Nightmare, The Hurt and the Heal

by KaleidoscopeMind



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Because they are love too., But seriously. Can you blame her?, Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Kink, Plus the Inner Council, Rough loving heals the hurt, Unconventional Relationship, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 07:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9481835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaleidoscopeMind/pseuds/KaleidoscopeMind
Summary: Ever since returning from Adamant Fortress Herah Adaar had been different. In the past she was actively involved with her people, spending every free moment socializing and assisting the various denizens of Skyhold. But in the days following her return, Herah seemed to all but disappear into her chambers. Everyone, even her closest companions, found themselves closed out. Her absence was quickly noticed, and the celebration of the Grey Wardens liberation turned to uneasy murmurs and growing rumors. After a short while the gossip around Skyhold became too much to ignore, and so Josephine called the members of the Inner Circle to a meeting in the War Room.A story of how the Iron Bull confronts his kadan in the wake of a living nightmare and shows her that nothing has been broken. (Updated 11/1/2017)





	

If anyone has any comments or suggestions on how to improve this piece I would be grateful! Updated 11/1/2017

Kadan- My Heart

Bas- Thing

Saarebas- Dangerous Thing. The Qunari word for a Mage, often spoken with fear and derision.

 

Ever since returning from Adamant Fortress Herah Adaar had been different. In the past she was actively involved with her people, spending nearly every free moment socializing and assisting the various denizens of Skyhold. But in the days following her return, Herah disappeared into her chambers. Everyone, even her closest friends and loved ones, found themselves closed out. Her absence was soon noticed, and the celebration of the Grey Wardens liberation from Corypheus and the Venatori turned to uneasy murmurs and growing rumors. After a while the gossip around Skyhold became too much to ignore or control, and so Josephine called the members of the Inner Circle to a meeting in the War Room.

“I understand this is a subject no one wishes to address, but it must be said and if need be I'll say it first: Mistress Adaar has not been herself since the return from Adamant.” Josephine nervously glances around the room, her tone somber and far too cautious. “Even considering the brutality of the battle, the change in her behavior is so dramatic. Is there any chance that perhaps she was Fade touched? Or that she might be…possessed?”

“I examined her as we returned from Adamant,” admits Cassandra. “Neither she nor the other Inquisition mages present have shown signs of demonic possession since that time.” She glances over at Varric and Solas as she adds, "Nor has anyone else that entered the Fade with her."

“Well then why’s she acting like such a big weirdie?” Sera asks, trying in vain to sound angry instead of scared. “She’s fought scary magic things before, yeah? First time she met Coryphyspit she tried to bury him alive. So what’s the big deal now? Why is she being all Not-Herah?”

“Because The Fade isn’t just magic, Buttercup. It’s a whole new world of serious shit,” answers Varric bluntly. “It takes everything you know about the world and turns it on its head. Up is down, east is west, emotions are reality, and some of them want to eat your face. Or wear it.”

“He is correct,” Solas adds. “The Fade is an ordeal under any circumstance. But Herah has also demonstrated an affinity for the Fade rivaled by few, making her connection all the stronger. Such melancholy in the aftermath of her experiences is perfectly natural. We must be patient and give her the time she needs to come to terms with this.”

“With all due respect, Solas, I must beg to differ." Cullen responds, his tone cold and certain. "Battle against demons can-..No, DOES, shake the spirit in ways beyond basic battle shock. That sort of experience can change a person forever, for better and worse. I can attest to this firsthand. We must intervene quickly for her sake.”

Dorian frowns deeply, looking to Cullen with concern as he pats the Commander on the shoulder. Cullen nods in appreciation while gently shrugging the gesture off, a silent assurance that he was alright. As he does, Dorian chimes in, his tone calm but his choice of words straightforward.

"Has anyone tried asking *her* how she feels about all this?" He glances over his shoulder at The Iron Bull. "Or has she truly shut EVERYONE out?"

Iron Bull had listened and watched, remaining silent throughout the discussion. When he does speak, it is a single word: “Cole?”

The pale spirit-lad sitting on the table makes himself known to the room, his fingers tapping a gentle rhythm on the heavy oak sides.

“She is herself but shocked, struggling, shaken. Sleepless nights, cold hollow pain, vicious words in an endless cycle.” His voice lowers to a gravelly crack, imitating the voice of the Nightmare as best as he could. “ ‘Herah Adaar. Your parents sacrificed Par Vollen and the only lives they ever knew. Countless people sacrificed their lives for your Inquisition. But we know the truth: They all died in vain. You are nothing but a fraud, a Saarebas swimming in an ocean of blood. And now everyone you have ever loved will know it too." He looks up at Bull with that sharp, unwavering gaze that always made his blood run cold. “She treats her sadness like sickness, quarantine and solitude. She pushes you away because she knows you've suffered too. She misses her heart, but fears you've seen too much. Show her that nothing has been broken.”

“Thanks, kid.” Bull nods, trying his best to hide just how much the spirits insight unnerved him. He looks around to the others. “Let people talk. Listen to what they’re saying and keep an eye out for who's listening. If our enemies think the Inquisitor is weak they’ll get cocky and we’ll catch them with their pants down. Give me a chance to go to her and see what I can do.” He turns and walks down the hall, letting the heavy wooden door slide closed behind him. He had no idea what he was going to do, but knew he would figure it out as he went along.  
******************************************************************************

He ascended the staircase and turned to find her standing in front of the fireplace, brushing her hair with a heavy paddle brush. Carefully he approaches her, focusing on her every detail: Thick curling horns capped with silverite framed an unruly cascade of blood red hair. Typically she had it braided and pinned against her scalp but now it was loose, the tips brushing against the sway of her lower back. She was chubby with a rounder belly and thicker curves than most women, but to Iron Bull her extra size was nothing but a plus. More to touch, more to conquer, more to keep him warm on Skyholds frigid winter nights.

What he didn’t like, however, was the black sleeveless nightgown she was wearing. Smooth plain cotton, soft but formless, and the darkness gave her silver skin an eerie pallor far too reminiscent of the Fade. She looked distant, ethereal, the larger-than-legend figure the ignorant masses had demanded she become. Someone meant for places he could not, WOULD not follow.

He says nothing, but the pause of her brush strokes give away her awareness of his presence. She lowers her arm, brush in hand as he reaches for her, arms draping loosely around her waist.

“Hello.” Herahs greeting comes out hollow, somber, a ghost of her usual largely optimistic tone.

“Hey there, boss.” Bull leans down to place a gentle kiss on the top of her head, briefly taking in the faded scent of horn balm. “Haven’t seen you around for a little while.”

“I would’ve just killed the mood. It’s better I stay away.” she stiffens and tries to withdraw, only to feel his arms tighten as he draws her back against him, his touch gentle yet insistent.

“Better for who?” he questions.

“Everyone who needs me to be what I never was.” She answers, and the resignation in her voice was telling. “..Like you. Bull, I think you should go. You would be better off...”

“If you really wanted me to leave,” he calmly pointed out, “You would summon your magic and I'd be halfway across the room by now.” He reaches down to take the hairbrush from her hand, setting it onto the mantle. “Or use your watchword. Or light my ass on fire.”

“Nah, fire is Dorians specialty.” Her voice remains listless, but Bull saw even this small conversation for the victory it was. “I’d use lightning. Leaves an interesting scar.”

 _Good._  Bull thinks to himself. _Get her to relax. Then get her to talk…_

“Eh, I dunno.. I'd say you can bring the fire. I still remember what happened to my curtains.” he teases.

“…I was doing you a favor. Those things were hideous.” He couldn’t tell if she was serious or joking, and settles on a bit of both.

“Yeah, they were. But the new ones are up now. I've been meaning to show them to you, but you’ve avoided everyone like the Blight. You've avoided *Me*. Talk to me, kadan. Tell me why.”

She sighs as she leans back against him. “…I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was as prepared for Adamant as anyone could possibly be.” Her tone is soft, humble, far too tired. “And I knew the minute we arrived that it was going to be terrifying even in the best case scenario. But to wind up in the Fade.. To find out I was mentally violated by an actual, literal Nightmare..” Her voice wavers for a moment as she bows her head, her face hidden by her hair. “To drag you, Solas and Varric into all that…I mean, you and Varric aren’t even mages! To think about what could’ve happened, what DID happen-“

“Hey.” he calmly interrupts. “Strouds decision to stay behind was as much his as it was yours. And fighting's what we get paid for, remember?” She offers no resistance as he turns her around to face him, his fingertips tenderly brushing against her cheekbones as he guides her hair back behind her pointed ears. “On my end that was just me earning my keep. Maybe a pay raise and a few rounds for me, you and the boys. If anyone could use a strong drink, it's you.”

“There you go making sense again.” She tries to sound serious, but he could hear that teasing tone in her voice, that half-suppressed chuckle. “You’re the first thing in ages that has.”

“Well then listen to me, Herah.” He cups her chin in one hand, gently tilting her face to meet his gaze.

“That bas we fought in the Fade was just another twisted, greedy demon asshole going for the low blow. It hit you where it hurts because that’s what makes it stronger. That thing has no power of its own, so it tried to steal yours. It is nothing without you, kadan. You won. It might not feel like it, but you won.”

“..Please, Bull...” Her voice cracks a little as she speaks, half plea and half prayer.

“Please what?”

“..Please be real. I need you to be real.” Tears well up in her eyes, spiting her efforts to hold them back. “I know this is going to make me sound soft o-or crazy, maybe both, I don’t know, but… I know I’m here in the world where I belong, but it still feels like part of me never left the Fade. If I’m so weak that a demon can get to me like this..." She swallows hard against the rising lump of nerves in her throat and forces herself to look up at him. "How can anyone rely on me to protect them? How can I be the Inquisitor? How can I be your kadan? I love you so much, Bull, and you have no idea how proud I am of you every day for the sacrifices you've made. You deserve so much more than I-”

Once there was a time this moment would have been everything he wanted: Find what makes her vulnerable, get her alone, make her offer up her secrets on a silver platter to the Ben Hassrath. But now all it did was made his heart ache from the glimpses he had gained into hers. The worship in her words, the vulnerability in her voice, both awakened something raw and protective inside him. A low, soft growl rose in his throat as he cut off her words at the source, his lips hungrily seeking hers. Though she was stunned for a few brief seconds by the sudden gesture, she soon returns his kiss with needy passion, pressing up tight against him as she wraps her arms around his chest.

_..Help her forget, then make her remember…_

“Don’t put me on a pedestal. No one deserves that. But I *am* real, kadan,” he purrs against her lips, delighting in the shiver that runs down her spine. He knew from experience how well the sound of his voice made her body come alive. “I’m flesh and blood, just like you.” He grips her ass in his calloused hands, eliciting a tiny, needy little whimper as she feels the line of his gorgeous cock through the fabric of his pants. “You are the one I choose. NOTHING has changed that. And I’ll prove it when I tear off these robes, get you in that bed, and show you just how much I’ve missed you.”

“..Promise?...” A simple word, full of hope and need. A plea he gladly took as a challenge. He steals another kiss as he eases her backwards, pushing her down into the center of her bed before crawling in after her on his hands and knees. Her hands slide around his back, making short work of his harness and pants as his hands find their way down her sides. She gasps in surprise as he rips her robes in half at the seams, exposing her completely to the air and his mercies, but any protests found themselves quickly and gladly forgotten.

At first Bull had planned to take his time with his heart, savoring her until she trembled and begged, but the ache of absence and the strain of their recent ordeal left both lovers with shredded restraint. At first Herah had ridden the Bull with a desperate hunger that made him fall for her all over again, skin to skin and heart to heart, her nails tracing lines down his back as he gripped her hips and left dark proud lovebites on her neck and breasts. But by the end he had turned the tides and pinned her to the sheets, her legs around his waist and her fingers enmeshed with his as he made Oh So Good on his promise. Her kiss swelled mouth hung open as he drove up to the hilt inside her, his pace bestial and bone deep. Their sweat slicked bodies clapped together with a ferocity that straddled the border of pleasure and punishment for both. Breathy cries and panting carnal bliss find their way out of her throat, mingling with his low throaty moans and growls. As she loses herself in the moment, his words bring her back to reality.

“Whose voice is stuck in your head now, huh?” Iron Bull growls, his words sending tingles through her body. There is that low purring tone she adores so much, but with it something steely, dominant and dangerous. His voice when meeting a challenge. A turn on that had once shamed and confused her, but now set her free.

 _Oh Fuck I love him so much!_ her mind screams.

“Y-yours,” she moans, all sex and breath and loving submission. She could feel his wicked grin against the side of her soft neck. “Only yours, kadan.”

“Damn right.” He rumbles, savoring in the deep red flush that tinted her skin, the way her thighs trembled around him. He knew it wouldn’t be long now. “Because you’re not a weapon. Not a Dangerous Thing..” He lifts his face, meeting her lust fogged gaze. “You’re YOU. And you're MINE. Now let me hear it.”

Herah let out a loud keening cry, her body clenching tight as she came around him, gushing enough to soak his lap. Iron Bull growled his pleasure as her vice tight muscles gripped and pushed at him; he always took pride in making her flood when she came. A moment later he returned the favor, trembling as he spent inside her, filling her in heavy pulses that sent shivers of sympathetic pleasure through her sensitive nethers. A ghost of a climax, and a preview of those to come.

Eventually the two found the energy to separate, turning to lay on their backs side by side. It took ages, or at least it seemed that way, before either one could find the words to speak again.

“Damn..” Herah gasps. “That..was…”

“Amazing,” Bull offers, and Herah nods in agreement.

“Yeah..What you said..” she nods slowly before turning over onto her side, resting her cheek against his broad chest. “Bull..I’m sorry about disappearing like I did. I had my reasons, but..it still wasn't fair to you.”

He shakes his head in refusal. “Don’t be sorry. Just promise me you’ll never shut me out like that again, alright?”

Herah nods somberly. “Alright.”

“Good.” He bows his head, placing a gentle kiss on the side of her forehead. “But you know..If you’re eager to make it up to me, we DO have all day to ourselves.”

“Sounds like an apology I can get behind. Or above..or beneath.” She teases. Bull smirks but avoids taking her up on the offer. Yet. “On one condition, though.”

“What’s that?”

“We make it down to the tavern in time for Wicked Grace tonight. I've had a lot of time to think lately, and I think I might've finally figured out Josephines tells.”

Iron Bull chuckles in amusement. “You bring the coin, I'll bring the drinks.”

*****************************************************************************  
Optional Epilogue: Warning! Goofiness below the line. You have been warned.

******************************************************************************************************************************************************************  
Later that afternoon Varric took a stroll outside to clear his head from the cobwebs of last nights beer. Cassandra was out near the training dummies, locking shields with a young up-and-comer from Jader. Ultimately she broke the stalemate, pushing the recruit off his feet altogether. She lends a hand, helps the recruit stand back up, and the man politely excuses himself as Varric takes a picture perfect opportunity to approach.

“Keeping the newbies on their toes, Seeker?” Varric asks.

“Always,” she answers. Though her voice was serious, her smirk gave her away. “Tell me, Varric..What was it like to wander in the Fade? It is a remarkable feat by itself, but all the more so for a dwarf.”

“It was..” he sighs, leaning back against one of the dummies as he looks to the sky. “Honestly, Seeker? It was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever seen, and every bit as terrifying. I couldn’t begin to come up with the sort of things I saw there. Cole once described it pretty well. Uhh, something about mirrors and memories..”

“Mirrors on mirrors on memories.” Cole blurts out, causing Cassandra to jump a bit as she turns to face him.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Varric nods and briefly points at him. “Thanks, kid.”

“What you saw was not MY Fade, Varric. Twisted, tainted, greedy, Dream gone wrong.” His voice drops, a tinge of anger darkening his tone. “It hurt so many. Made so much hurt to heal. But less now.”

“’Less now’?” Cassandra questions sternly, her concern and curiosity shared by Varric.

“Don’t fear for your friend, Cassandra. Herah is herself. Her fear was loud, but now it’s fading. The Iron Bull helps heal the hurt by making her remember she is herself, not who the fear says she is.” He looks over towards a group of birds pecking at a nearby pile of breadcrumbs. “She loved those robes, but now they’re ribbons bound around her wrists. Somehow that makes her love him even more.”

Cassandra pondered the odd words for a few seconds before going wide eyed, stunned mute as she realized what Cole meant. Varric shudders, trying in vain to clear that mental image from his minds eye when he is distracted by a boisterous laugh from Sera, sitting on the roof up above.

“Ha! Good for them, yeah?” she laughs, raising an afternoon beer in toast. “Maybe when she’s done getting the business, she’ll be BACK in business!”

“Ugh,” Cassandra groans.

“It never hurts to try.” Varric answers honestly, smirking at the chance to tease the Seeker at the same time. He pats Cole on the shoulder. “Come on, kid. Let’s go take a walk. Maybe we can work on your conversational skills a little bit.” The pale young man nods, and together they turn and make their way back to the courtyard.

And as they walk, Varric makes a mental note to include a seat for the Inquisitor in the evenings game of Wicked Grace. Perhaps he could even talk Cullen into returning…


End file.
